An Afternoon in Picpus
by frustratedstudent
Summary: Before the barricade and 1832, they all converged. An afternoon in 1824 makes all the difference for Cosette, the young Thenardiers, Montparnasse, Marius, Les Amis, and Musichetta.
1. Chapter 1

**Going Out For Some Sunshine**

Musichetta Laurain crossed her arms and stamped her foot as she watched the little girl running up to her from across the garden outside the dormitories. "Are you still coming, Cosette?" she asked.

The nine year old dusted off her schooldress and smiled. "I just wanted to see my Papa. Can he come with us? He can help us get up there,"

Muschietta shook her head. "We can climb up by ourselves."

Cosette nodded as she slipped her hand in that of Musichetta. Both of them were charity pupils in the school run by the nuns. However, while Cosette was still shy and thus considered insignificant by her fellow students, Musichetta was popular and admired by the other girls. At fifteen, she was fast becoming a beauty.

The two girls crossed the garden, expertly evading the nuns and some of the pupils who were bound to tell on them. They soon reached a deserted corner near the high stone wall. Crumbling steps led to nowhere in the ivy. 

"Here we are." Musichetta said, helping Cosette up one step. The older girl parted the foliage to reveal a gap just small enough for a slender girl to squeeze through. This breach opened out onto a stack of crates on the street.

"Maybe we could stay inside..." Cosette squeaked when she saw the street.

"Nonsense. The view is much better out here." Muscihetta said, making herself comfortable on a ledge.

Down in the street, three children sat patiently on the steps of a shop.

"Where have they been?" Azelma whined. 

Gavroche sucked on his thumb. "I want Maman," 

Eponine scuffed her shoes. "She'll be coming with Papa soon. Now, I have a gold piece. Who wants to have some cake?" 

"Won't Papa be mad if we go?" Azelma asked, wide-eyed. "He had to talk to all those people..." 

Eponine shook her head and adjusted a ribbon on her dress. "I'm hungry, we're in Paris, and the cakes are good. Let's enjoy before we go back to Montfermeil"

"Are they like Maman's?" Gavroche asked.

Eponine shrugged as she took her siblings by the hand and led them down the street towards where the aroma of cake filled the air.  
Inside the bakery, a skinny twelve-year old gamin with stringy black hair kicked aside a pale, small five-year old boy who was crouched at the door. "Go away, Navet. I can't give you anything today," the baker's assistant snapped.

Navet glared at the older boy. "You're a bug, Parnasse!"

Montparnasse ignored Navet, and continued stacking the sacks of flour. "All of this bread! If only I can eat it..."

"Then do!" Navet said.

Montparnasse dusted off his hands. "Not here. Not today," he said, going off to meet another supply cart. Bringing in the flour only got him two sous a day. But that, in his mind, was a fortune.


	2. Lost and Found

**Lost and Found**

Just outside the bakery, there were a few chairs and tables, meant for the customers to sit at to enjoy their bread. On this particular afternoon, one of the chairs in a shadowed corner was occupied by a skinny boy of about fourteen years old. He was well-dressed, betraying his bourgeois status, but his eyes were dark and sad, and his black hair was tangled. He hunched, as if trying to make himself smaller.

In short, Marius Pontmercy wanted to disappear. _"If it weren't for Aunty, I wouldn't have to sit here!"_ he thought. Mlle Gillenormand had been more than happy to let him go off on his way while she visited a friend to do 'some charity' for her. However, the pleasure of wandering the neighborhood of Picpus had grown thin, and left Marius hungry.

Now, he sat in a rickety chair, enjoying a small cake while he listened to the uproarious conversation of four young men seated not far away. 

"I tell you, Combeferre, we're likely to come down with the influenza that has been going around here," said one of them, a bespectacled medical student who rubbed his nose with his cane.

"Nonsense Joly. We were careful not to stay too long," another medical student said calmly, looking up from his books.

The third person at this table, a boy of about sixteen with reddish-brown hair and a mirthful grin, bit into a sugar-covered cake. "If that is what you do in medical school, I'll take up law when it's my time to study here. Till then, I will remain feckless in the country," he declared.

"How about learning law to prevent people from going unshod and hungry in the country?" the last student in this group said. He had shiny blonde hair and eyes of a piercing blue. Though more serious than the rest, a smile was still on his face.

"Courfeyrac is a laughing knight, and Enjolras the grave one," Combeferre noted. 

Marius finished off the last of his cake when he saw three other young people enter the vicinity of the bakeshop. These three were mere children; two girls and a little boy.

"There, we shall get cakes with berries and cream. It will be lovely, won't it, Zelma? What do you think, Vroche?" Eponine giggled.

Azelma laughed, and Gavroche smiled. Marius silently observed the three children flitting from basket to basket of bread and cake, marveling at the delights before them. Suddenly, a clattering sound was heard. 

"My coin!" Eponine gasped. She looked around frantically. "Monsieurs, could you please let me look?" she asked, turning to the students seated nearby.

Courfeyrac and Joly were down on all fours right away to help Eponine look for the coin. Enjolras and Combeferre followed suit after moving the chairs aside. Marius stood up to help them when he felt something land by the heel of his shoe. Bending down, he found a gold louis d'or.

"Is this yours, petit?" he asked the girl.

Eponine smiled and ran up to him. "Oh thank you Monsieur!" she squealed. She looked at everyone and her smile grew quizzical.

"I found the coin, but where's my brother?"


	3. The Advantages of Losing a Hat

**The Advantages of Losing a Hat**

Back at the convent, Musichetta and Cosette had climbed down from their precarious perch and now stood in the street.

"We won't go far," Musichetta said, taking Cosette's hand as the wind blew up.

"My hat!" the younger girl cried as her plush hat was knocked from her head and carried far off down the street.

"Is this yours, mademoiselle?" a young man with wiry black hair said as he picked up the plush hat from the ground. With him was another student about his age, who was beginning to lose some hair from the crown of his head.

"It's my friend's hat," Musichetta said, walking up to the students, who handed Cosette's hat to her.

"Who are you monsieurs?" Cosette asked, wide-eyed with astonishment and anxiety.

"I'm Lesgle, but I prefer to be called L'aigle," the balding student said. "This here is my friend Bahorel,"

"It's a pleasure to meet you both," Musichetta said with a smile. "You two are such gentlemen. You're students?"

"At the Sorbonne," Bahorel replied. "And you?"

Cosette looked around and tugged on Musichetta's skirt. "Chetta..." she whispered fearfully.

Musichetta blushed. "People call me Musichetta. And I study at the convent," she said, ignoring Cosette. "I guess you two are taking law?"

Bahorel and Lesgle exchanged an amused look. "You are a clever girl," Bahorel said, ignorant of the clatter of wagon wheels coming down the street.

"You're the first person to tell me that," Musichetta said.

Cosette gripped Musichetta's hand. "Look out!" she yelled before her cry was drowned out by shouts, and a terrible crash.


	4. Convergence

**onvergence**

Montparnasse shielded his eyes from the dust that blew right into his face.

When he looked up, the scene that greeted him made him lose all nerve. A humongous cart had run into a stack of crates nearby. Goods of all sorts were everywhere. Flour covered the street, and wine was running into the gutters, making a red, sticky mess of everything.

More alarmingly though, there were two young boys trapped under the cart, calling for help. Nearby in an alley near the convent, a child screamed and buried her face in the skirt of an older girl.

"Someone help!" Montparnasse shouted, running to rescue Navet.

He was not alone. A group of well-dressed young men immediately joined him in raising the cart. Two more students went round the other side and pulled the two boys out of the wreck.

"_Mon Dieu!_ Gavroche!" a young girl gasped, running over to the older and better dressed of the boys. Gavroche was stunned, but otherwise unhurt. On the other hand, blood matted Navet's hair.

Her sister jabbed her in the ribs as they knelt in the dirt to see to their brother. "Ponine, Maman says..."

"Never mind it, Azelma!" Eponine said. She looked up at the students. "Will he be alright?" she asked.

"I think he will be, mademoiselle," Joly said, helping the three Thenardiers up. "I can't say the same about his friend."

Enjolras had scooped up Navet, who was beginning to whimper. "I'll bring him to the hospital. Are any of you coming?" he asked.

"I'll go. It will be easier to get help if Joly and I are around," Combeferre said.

Bossuet and Bahorel looked from Cosette and Musichetta to the group of young men. "Do we know you?" Bossuet asked Enjolras. "I see you at the Sorbonne."

"I'm a first-year law student," Enjolras said.

"He's just arrived in Paris," Combeferre explained to Bossuet.

"I'm two years above you. I'm L'aigle," Bossuet said. "My friend here is Bahorel."

"You can call me Enjolras," the younger student said.

In the meantime, Azelma had let go of Gavroche's hand and was now looking at the two convent school girls standing nearby. "Ponine..." she said to her sister. "Look who's here!"

Eponine turned and her jaw dropped. "The Lark?"

Cosette paled. "Ponine? Zelma?" she gasped before turning to flee.

"Hey! Where are you going?" Eponine asked indignantly. She would have run after Cosette if Azelma and Gavroche hadn't stopped her.

"Wait! You know her?" Marius asked, overwhelmed by all the goings-on around him. "Where are you going?" he asked Enjolras, Combeferre, and Jolly. Suddenly, the bell from the convent began to ring.

"The mass is over. Are you waiting for someone?" Courfeyrac asked Marius concernedly.

Marius nodded. "I'd better hurry back to the convent to find my aunt..."

"Good luck. We have to go." Courfeyrac said. He turned to Montparnasse. "Could you watch the three children here?" he asked, gesturing to the Thenardiers.

"Gladly. Now let's get back inside," Montparnasse said, leading Eponine, Azelma, and Gavroche into the bakery.

Musichetta smiled at Bossuet and Bahorel. "Will I ever see you again?" she asked. 

"Sometime, Musichetta," Bahorel said gallantly. 

"Oh of course...ouch!" Musichetta exclaimed as she felt someone grab her ear.

"Musichetta Laurain!" an old nun screeched. "A disgrace! Talking to the gentlemen...go away, you demons! And get back inside, girl! I'm sure Mother Prioress will have a word with you!"

Bossuet and Bahorel were too stunned to flee while the nun dragged Musichetta back into the convent amid the girl's protestations of innocence. "Poor girl..." Bahorel said. "So pretty and shut up in there?" 

Bossuet shook his head. "We've caused enough trouble today, Bahorel," he said, leading his friend away.

Marius had not budged from where he stood. He looked up at the afternoon sky, then around at the now empty street. "Ghosts maybe? Where have they all gone?" he wondered dreamily as he walked back towards the convent gates.


	5. Fate Deals a New Spool of Thread

**Fate Deals A New Spool of Thread**

Montparnasse listened to the chatter of the two younger Thenardiers as they ran around the bakery back room. "How long till your parents come for you?" he asked Eponine.

"I don't know," Eponine said, sitting down beside him. "Don't know if they ever will. Where are yours?" 

"They won't ever come," Montparnasse said, staring into the distance as the memories threatened to overwhelm him. He felt a small hand rest on his and squeeze his palm.

"You could be my older brother," Eponine said softly. "Papa always wanted...ah, it's hard to say, but I think he'll like you." 

"It's never that simple!" Montparnasse said, biting his lip.

Eponine looked at him keenly. "I'll talk to him. You'll see! So what do you say?"

Somehow, looking at her then, Montparnasse was sure that his adventures were going to begin. However, he wondered if he even wanted them to.

"It's a life..." he reminded himself as he shook Eponine's hand by way of agreement.  
Cosette had hidden in the garden while Musichetta was being scolded by the Mother Prioress. If there was anything that the poor orphan feared more than displeasing her adoptive father, it was the wrath of the usually peacable nuns.

It seemed like hours till Cosette finally saw Musichetta emerge from the prioress' cell. The fifteen year old looked downcast, but still resolute.

"Chetta? Now..." Cosette asked, going up to her friend.

Musichetta sighed sadly. "I have to go away. Today, Cosette. Within an hour. I don't care. I want to go away."

"But the streets! The people!" Cosette asked, horrified at the thought of hapless Musichetta out alone in the world. "What will happen to you?"

"I'll be fine, _ma petit_," Musichetta said, smiling as she ruffled Cosette's hair. "Now you be good to your Papa. Study, and sometimes smile at the young gentlemen. They'll smile back one day, when you're prettier than I am,"

Cosette held on to Musichetta's skirt. "Will I see you again, Chetta?" she asked, holding back her sobs.

Musichetta hugged Cosette briefly. "Maybe one day," she said as she let go of the child, then hurried down to pack her things. She did not look back. 

However, Cosette stood there for a long time, as if waiting for something. With a sad sigh, she turned on her heel and went to the garden to find the man she called "Father".

Joly drained the last of his glass of wine as he watched his friends gather around the billiards table in the cafe. Even Enjolras had been talked into joining the game.

"Just this once," the serious young man said as he picked up a cue.

"Are you still troubled by what happened?" Combeferre asked him. 

"Perhaps. Something..." Enjolras said, trailing off as he managed to get one billiard ball into a pocket.

"...needs to be addressed?" Courfeyrac asked, smiling knowingly.

"Be careful, Don Quixote," Bossuet grinned, thumbing the cue he had in hand. "Tis not the time for jousting..."

"You never know!" Bahorel laughed. "But I say it's the time for love. Today, Cupid's aim was true!"

"Skirts, skirts...that's all you think about!" Enjolras said chidingly. 

"And you?" Combeferre asked. "You're a bit of the Gascon, I daresay."

Enjolras smiled as he waited for Courfeyrac to finish his turn. Joly, still in his corner, rubbed at his eyes. "I'd better go out for some fresh air..." he said, getting up.

"Don't be long!" Courfeyrac called after him. "We have to have a chance at beating you." 

Joly was laughing so hard that he almost did not notice the young girl who'd just entered the cafe. He almost bumped into her, but she caught his spectacles.

"You need to be careful, Monsieur!" she laughed, handing them back to him.

"Hello, Musichetta!" Bossuet called from the back of the cafe.

Joly hastily put on his glasses again. When he looked at the girl who'd helped him, he couldn't help but smile. "Angels do fall," he said in a whisper.

The girl blushed. "A poet?" 

"No, medical student. You can call me Patrice, but my friends call me Joly. I see my friends know you already, Mademoiselle."

Musichetta absent-mindedly put a stray strand of hair back behind her ear. She smiled at Joly as she took a seat beside him.

"Maybe you're right about the angels part," she whispered contentedly, feeling safe for the first time in several hours.

_finis_


End file.
